


no sweeter innocence

by romanticisms



Category: Gideon the Ninth - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Corruption Kink, F/F, Fingering, bossy top dulcinea, oh no its raining and oh no looks like our clothes are wet oh no
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-18 01:09:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21519445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticisms/pseuds/romanticisms
Summary: Dulcinea tires of Gideon's vow of silence and wants to make her talk.
Relationships: Gideon Nav/Dulcinea Septimus, implied Harrowhark/Gideon Nav
Comments: 7
Kudos: 112





	no sweeter innocence

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first ever fanfic and its.... this...............

Dulcinea Septimus wasn’t bored, exactly. It took more to bore someone like her. But this cat-and-mouse game with the Ninth’s cavalier was starting to lose its charm. Every afternoon, Gideon Nav would make some excuse to come and visit her out on the terrace, and every afternoon, Gideon Nav would not speak a single word to her.

She knew the vow of silence wasn’t real. Gideon was hardly the type to be truly penitent. And she kept cursing her necromancer every time she thought Dulcinea was asleep, which was fairly often. But that hardheaded cav loyalty kept her silent as the grave whenever Dulcinea was trying to actually _talk_ to her.

It wasn’t so much about what she would say. Gideon already left her thoughts written all over her skull-painted face. It was the principle of the thing, the simple humanity of making small talk. It had been so long since she had just talked with someone. No death, no secrets, no lies. Just, hey, nice weather we’re having, isn’t it?

Dulcinea just wanted to talk.

At least, that was the lie she told herself.

\--

It was a gray day, gray as grave dust, and the clouds blocked out the sun. Dulcinea wore a flimsy little robe despite the chill. Why not? She wasn’t getting any younger. Gideon showed up just after lunch, looking both eager and guilty. Her cloak and hood were drawn tight, and her grim shroud of face paint was smeared. Dulcinea could see the faintest pink-tinged brown of her lips beneath. She wondered, idly, what her bare face would look like.

“You look like a cat that’s caught a mouse, Ninth,” said Dulcinea, knowing full well who was the cat and who was the mouse in this situation. “Was lunch really that good? I’m sorry to have missed it.”

Gideon shuffled her feet and opened her mouth, then closed it again. Not even talk of food would break her covenant to that little creature of the night, apparently. But she was walking with a spring in her step as she crossed the room to stand by Dulcinea’s side.

“Not lunch? Let me guess. What else would excite a cavalier?” Dulcinea steepled her fingers beneath her chin and peered at Gideon’s sunglasses. She could almost see the gleam of the golden eyes beneath them. “Oh, I know. You’ve discovered a new muscle.”

Gideon’s mouth twitched. She ducked her head, trying to hide her laughter. 

“It’s alright to laugh. Or did your necromancer forbid that too?”

She shook her head. There was a certain giddy anxiousness in the way she carried herself today, like she had snuck out her bedroom window and was expecting to be caught at any moment. Perhaps it was simply that she was out of the clutches of her necromancer. What a complex relationship those two had. Never together, but somehow, never apart.

Dulcinea felt a sort of detached resentment for the young heiress. Not quite jealousy, more frustration. She didn’t know what she had. Maybe she wouldn’t realize her mistake until someone else played with her toy.

It was rude to think of Gideon that way, and selfish, but in this world _nice_ was a game that children played. Besides, Gideon was staring at her. Dulcinea let her stare, blinking coyly back with those wide blue eyes of hers. The silence was as heavy as the rain clouds above.

The clouds broke first, releasing a steady drizzle that soaked through Dulcinea’s robe. Gideon pulled off her sunglasses to rub away the raindrops and Dulcinea got a good look at those amber eyes of hers, still so clear and bright. Her facepaint began to melt away.

The weather. Talk about the weather.

“Do you get much rain in the Ninth House?” Dulcinea asked, her voice going thin and reedy as the cold crept further in. “I can’t imagine so. All that careful paint! It would be such a waste.”

Gideon’s hand stilled on her glasses. She looked at Dulcinea as if seeing her for the first time. In the patches of brown skin revealed by the rain, Dulcinea could see a deep blush forming. 

“Oh, my robe.” Dulcinea’s robe was plastered to her skin and had gone very nearly see-through. This hadn’t been part of her gameplan, but she could use it. Gideon was making strangled noises now, as if her lips really were sealed. “I’m sorry, dear cavalier. I must be quite a sight.”

With a huff, Dulcinea swung her legs over the side of the lounge chair. Gideon shoved her glasses somewhere inside her robe and reached out to help her up. Dulcinea felt her shiver when she took her hand, and she couldn’t resist lightly stroking her thumb over Gideon’s rough calluses. So many hours alone with the sword.

“Would you mind helping me to my quarters?” Dulcinea sighed prettily. “I would call Pro, but you’re right here, and I’m afraid if I stay out too long I’ll catch cold and waste away even faster.”

Of course, Gideon helped her. She slung an arm around Dulcinea’s bony shoulders as she made her way through the drafty halls, shivering all the way. Dulcinea quite enjoyed the warmth of Gideon’s hand against her skin, and she suspected Gideon was having the time of her life just feeling her collarbone. Poor thing couldn’t even look her in the eye without those sunglasses. The skull paint was only streaks now, and at last Dulcinea could see the rough-hewn features of this strong young butch still with one foot in teenhood.

When they arrived, Gideon stopped short at the door, as abruptly as if there was a bone ward locking her out. Dulcinea giggled.

“You can come in,” she said. “I’ll make you tea. No, don’t try to protest. I will make you tea.”

Gideon bit her lip and stepped over the threshold. When no bones speared her and no Seventh House cavalier came charging out, her shoulders lost their stiff set, and she slouched lazily into a chair. 

Once the teapot was set to boil, Dulcinea slipped behind Gideon and tugged at her hood. Gideon jerked away as if she had been burned.

“Come on,” said Dulcinea gently. “You must be soaked in those heavy robes.”

The deep blush returned. Dulcinea tugged again, and this time, the hood fell away to reveal a shock of ginger hair, shaved neatly at the sides and back. When Dulcinea started undoing the clasp, Gideon yelped.

“What are you--” she started, then clapped her hands over her mouth.

“She speaks!” Dulcinea crowed with delight and stepped back. “I knew I could get you to talk.”

“Oh. It was--oh.” Gideon’s whole face was red now. “Yeah, I speak. Congrats. You win.”

“Have I upset you?” Dulcinea twisted a lock of her honey-brown hair. She was surprised to feel an actual pang of guilt.

“I’ll pass on the tea.” Her voice was rough. She stood and kicked in the chair.

“Your necromancer will never know, I assure you. I just wanted a little more company than old Pro. He’s not much for conversation.”

Dulcinea stepped right up to Gideon, reaching for her clasp once more. Her head was level with Gideon’s collarbones and she could feel her stuttering breath ruffling her hair. 

“I just thought if you would talk to me, then we could really get to know each other,” Dulcinea continued, unclasping Gideon’s robe. The heavy black fabric fell away all at once. Gideon unrobed, Gideon unpainted, was such a thing to behold. She was broad and sturdy and full of life in a way Dulcinea could never hope to be. She was the flame, and Dulcinea was the candle, hoping to catch a spark.

“I’m told I have a sparkling personality,” said Gideon, who had never been told that. “Aren’t you cold too? Your robe is drenched.”

“Gideon Nav, are you trying to get me to undress?”

Gideon made a choking noise. Her suave persona couldn’t withstand more than a sentence or two, it seemed. 

The teakettle whistled. Gideon practically sprinted to it. She clumsily poured two cups and rifled through the cabinets for teabags while Dulcinea sat back and admired her. A cavalier in peak condition, making her tea. She could get used to this. Again, she thought of young Nonagesimus, and hot anger spread through her chest.

“Leave the tea.”

“What?”

“You were right, I am cold. Why don’t you help me?”

“ _What?_ ”

Dulcinea plucked uselessly at the thin, damp fabric of her robe until Gideon took the hint. It took a while.

“No way. I’ve read this one before. This is exactly like in _Shower Sl-_ ” Dulcinea slipped off her robe and Gideon stopped short. “Lady Septimus, are you sure about this?”

“Of course I am. Ninth, a lady in my situation tends to take joy where she can.” And take it from others, but she didn’t add that. 

“I shouldn’t.” Gideon glared daggers into the ground. “Harrow would have my head if she caught me messing around with another house’s necro.”

“She never needs to know.” Dulcinea slipped off one sleeve of her undershirt. “I get the feeling you two aren’t quite as close as most of the pairs here.”

Gideon’s face was a whirlwind of emotion, most of it barely repressed lust. 

Dulcinea slipped off the other sleeve and raised her eyebrows.

“You drive a hard bargain,” said Gideon, and she leapt forward to help Dulcinea out of the rest of her clothes. The chill had gone down to her bones, and she shivered as the wet cloth was peeled away. Her undergarments looked like flimsy rags in Gideon’s strong hand. 

Gideon stepped away and looked Dulcinea up and down, open-mouthed. Before she could smirk or make some lewd comment, Dulcinea stepped forward and yanked her down by the collar of her shirt.

“Let me tell you what’s going to happen now,” she said. Gideon gulped and nodded. “I’m going to teach you how to please me, and you’re going to be a good cavalier for me. And then, if you do a good job, I’ll show you what it’s like to be pleased in return.”

“You want me to show you a good time?” Gideon pressed her lips against Dulcinea’s. The kiss was rough but firm, more passion than skill. Dulcinea kissed back and slid her leg between Gideon’s. She jerked her knee up and Gideon melted like paint under rain.

“No need to be cocky. I’m in charge,” she whispered in Gideon’s ear.

“Okay,” Gideon whimpered.

“Okay, what?” Dulcinea ground her knee upward and was rewarded with a strained whine. “Who’s in charge?”

“You’re in charge, Lady Septimus.” Gideon grabbed the counter and leaned back, letting Dulcinea take control. If only Nonagesimus could see them now, Dulcinea thought wickedly. The cavalier bond was in tatters with her underwear, and the cavalier herself was putty in her hands. Hers to corrupt. By the end of the afternoon, Dulcinea would have her bent over and begging.

First things first. Dulcinea tugged at the hem of Gideon’s shirt and she raised her arms obligingly, letting Dulcinea slip it up and over her tense shoulders. No bra, but Dulcinea supposed that wasn’t too necessary under heavy robes. Besides, Gideon’s breasts were small and firm. Dulcinea ran her hands across them and tweaked her nipples.

“ _Dulcinea_ ,” Gideon yelped. Ah, to be as sensitive as a virgin.

“That’s Lady Septimus to you,” said Dulcinea, giving her nipple another pinch. “But it’s not your turn yet. Get on your knees.”

Gideon dropped like a rock. She peered up at Dulcinea, eyes wide and eager as always. Dulcinea buried her fist in that red, red hair and tugged. Gideon’s eyelids fluttered.

“What should I do?” she murmured. “I don’t-- I mean, I’ve never--”

“It’s like swordplay. A flick, a twist, a stroke. You’ll catch on.” Dulcinea felt a passing tenderness for Gideon Nav, whose desires were simple and few. For all her affected world-weariness, she didn’t truly know yet just how weary the world would make her, how sweet these rare moments were.

Then Gideon’s lips brushed Dulcinea’s inner thigh and the tenderness was replaced with burning desire. She held tight to the cavalier’s hair and guided her mouth closer to her clit. Gideon licked and sucked with wild abandon, showing none of the deftness that she displayed with the sword. But that was okay. There was a certain charm to her artless ministrations, and the force with which she licked was enough to push Dulcinea closer to the edge.

Dulcinea pulled Gideon’s head away, betraying a little too much of her strength. Gideon whimpered in confusion. She was red-faced and panting, shiny with Dulcinea’s juices. Her hair was a mess and those golden eyes of hers, so fresh and innocent only minutes earlier, were blearily half-lidded.

When Dulcinea reached for Gideon’s hand and pressed it lightly against her slick entrance, Gideon’s eyes flew open again, as if she had just realized what was happening.

“Lady Septimus,” she protested. “What if _your_ cavalier finds out? I don’t know shit about politics, but I’m pretty sure that one doesn’t end well for me.”

“Don’t worry so much.” Dulcinea stroked Gideon’s sweat-dampened curls. “Life is short.”

Gideon didn’t look comforted, but she gamely pressed her fingers against Dulcinea’s clit. Dulcinea moaned at the friction, and that noise was enough to set Gideon feverishly working away again. She really was passionate, and she could even be skilled with enough practice. She was a prize in more ways than one.

Then Gideon slipped a finger inside Dulcinea and her real skill began to show. She was strong and seemingly tireless. Dulcinea grabbed wildly for the nearest chair and felt her legs almost buckle at the sensations.

“Too much?” There was genuine concern in Gideon’s voice. Dulcinea almost wished she hadn’t done this. It had been selfish, and unfair, especially since Gideon didn’t know the truth. She almost wished Gideon had never met the person she called Dulcinea Septimus. But she hardened her heart, and gave herself over to pleasure.

“More,” she said.

Gideon added another finger. Dulcinea was slight of frame, and that was enough to fill her entirely. She rode Gideon’s hand, biting her lip until she could no longer resist and she cried out in bliss.

When the waves of her orgasm subsided, she guided Gideon’s fingers back out again. The poor girl didn’t know when to stop, and ordinarily Dulcinea would have gone for round two, but right now she was hungry for something else.

“This way, Ninth,” she commanded, heading for her bedroom. The exertion was getting to her sickly body. No more standing sex for her. Gideon followed along as if there was an invisible leash attached to her, looking for all the world like a cavalier in step behind her necromancer. Dulcinea’s smile widened.

Dulcinea pushed Gideon lightly toward the bed and she fell back onto her elbows. For all her bravado, it was surprisingly easy to coax obedience out of this foolhardy cavalier. That would serve her well in the future.

She undid Gideon’s belt and set it aside, noting the knuckle-knives still strapped to it. Gideon must be too overwhelmed to keep her guard up at a time like this. Another mark of innocence, but she wouldn’t strip that one away. She wouldn’t hurt her like that. No, this was about pleasure for both of them. Pleasure and corruption.

When she slid her hand into Gideon’s boxers, she wasn’t at all surprised to find her a complete mess. Dulcinea lazily trailed her fingers around in the wetness, watching Gideon squirm and arch under her touch.

“Lady Septimus, please,” Gideon mumbled, trying to sit up. “I want you to touch me.”

“But I am touching you.” Dulcinea feigned confusion. “What is it you want, Gideon Nav? Beg for it.”

Gideon made a valiant effort, but she was too flustered to make any words come out. If Nonagesmius had wanted a real vow of silence, Dulcinea thought, she should have just done this. Still, she took pity on Gideon, and began to rub her clit.

It didn’t take long before Gideon cried out wordlessly and grabbed Dulcinea’s hair, pulling hard, practically cracking her wrist between her powerful thighs. Then she collapsed onto the pillows, sweating and panting.

“There,” said Dulcinea brightly, reaching for her nightgown. “I feel like we know each other a little better, don’t you?”

“That’s one way to put it. Damn,” said Gideon. And then, “ _Damn_.”

“Thank you for getting me out of the rain.”

“If that’s my reward, you’ll never touch a drop of water again.”

“You’re sweet.” Dulcinea giggled, once more the picture of demure propriety. “What a noble cavalier. Your necromancer should be honored to have you.”

That last comment was a little too far, and they both knew it. Gideon blanched and started yanking her belt back on. 

“I’m sorry, Lady Septimus,” she said. “I’ve gotta go. Trust me, if it was anything short of life or death I would stay, but… well.” 

“Well indeed,” agreed Dulcinea. All of the fire had gone out of her now. “Go tend to your necromancer. Maybe if she’s lucky, you can teach her a thing or two.”

Gideon blushed in an entirely different way than she had earlier. It rose up from her chest like lava. She said nothing, but Dulcinea had dealt with her fake silence for long enough, and her eyes told the truth. She would not see Gideon Nav in her bed again, not in this lifetime. And maybe that was for the best.

As Gideon stumbled around, putting on her robes and swearing at her lack of face paint. Dulcinea could only smile softly. To be alight with Gideon’s flame, even for a moment, was a wonderful thing. And to have taken her honor, her innocence, her first time? She would decide later whether she felt guilty or delighted.


End file.
